


Replaceable

by SBK



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Anxiety, Being Lonely, Character Analysis, Cramped Spaces, Depression, F/F, F/M, Family Bonding, Friend Bonding, Gen, Going from hope to no hope, M/M, Multi, Other, PTSD, Supernatural Elements, The Upside Down, Will Byers centric, Will centric, Will is my favorite, being actually alone, coming to terms, hoplessness, monster-san, running away from things, shedded skin stuff, slight gore, weird monster alien slug things
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-08 13:49:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7760239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SBK/pseuds/SBK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything looks familiar, but different. It becomes very clear to Will that home might not be anything short from Hell itself. </p><p>or </p><p>A multichapter fic about the struggles of living within the Upside Down, with no food or water, you're bound to do some crazy stuff. </p><p>Or I really just want more Will centric fics ok.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blissfully Ignorant

* * *

 

 

     At first, it had been so easy to sprint away from the black figure he couldn't quite make out in the dark. At first it had been  _ too  _ easy to slam the door and make as much noise as he wanted, calling out for his mother and brother in loud shouts. At first, he thought a gun would be enough. 

 

     Then he woke up, surrounded by what looked to be silly string. It was sticky like a spiderweb, gooey and cold like seaweed. It was cold, he could see his breath leave his lips in puffs of white. He had no idea where he was, but yet he did. It all looked familiar. This was the shed they had behind their house, though now it was… different. This wasn't at all home, this was nothing but  _ Hell.  _

 

     Will shot up when he heard the growl, gun in his shaking hands as he pushed the shed door open. It creaked, screeching with a vengeance. Another growl, so loud and right down his spine. He whipped around and  _ fired.  _

 

     “Mom?! MOM!” He screamed, running outside into the cold, strange gooey webs. Flakes of what could either be ash of dead skin floated around, everything was  _ so cold.  _ “MOMMY-” He tripped, tumbling forward. The thing was right there, opening it's mouth. He was going to die. He was going to  _ die.  _ He shot again,  _ bam! Bam!  _

 

     It recoiled, reeling off him like a dead fish, and he scrambled to his feet and ran. The gun left, abandoned. He ran as fast as he could, around the house, into the house. He ran into his room, covered in trees and vines and- this was not his room. This was not his house. He's dreaming, he’ll wake up.  _ I’ll wake up.  _ Breakfast will be ready and- and mom will be in rush, but that's fine. It's fine. He’ll wake up for sure. He's not waking up. 

 

     Will pinches his arm once, then twice, then three times. He's not waking up. It's so cold, the air is biting at his skin. He's so  _ scared.  _ He’ll starve to death if not from frostbite, or that…  _ thing.  _ Will could hear every single one of those unnatural, gural sounds coming from it. He could hear the thumping of it's feet as it moved itself across the floor of his home, like in Jurassic park. Except he's alone, all alone here. Wherever  _ here  _ is. He’s already got numerous scrapes, he already feels tired. But he's great at hiding, hiding from dad, mom, even his brother. He's great at running away. 

 

     Will would tuck himself under his bed, but that’s too open. Under the desk, he has nowhere to run if found. In the closet? Well, it’ll just wait for him to leave if it can’t break the doors down first. His best bet would be the drawer, the one that’s a bit fat and long, but creaky and loud. It's his only option though, and he takes what he can get. Tucking himself away and doing his best to scoot it closed. It's full of water, seeping through his clothing. It's even colder in here than out there.  _ It's even scarier in here, than out there.  _

 

     The door tugs open, the thumps are heavy. It's not going to leave his room. He's it's prey, and he won't be leaving without either dying or a miracle happening.  _ Mom…  _ he thinks to himself. 

 

_ Dad…  _

 

     The dad that's never been there for him, and yet even that man would be better than the everlasting silence and the bitter cold of this place. He's scared. He wants to play dungeons and dragons again, he wants to stay up late listening to his brother's mixtapes. All he listens to is  _ thump, thump.  _ He'll imagine a beat, the thumps are the drum and the creaks are the old guitar. 

 

     Will closes his eyes, arms wrapped around himself. 

 

_ I'll wake up soon, I'll wake up soon…  _

  
  


* * *

 

 

     Will’s gotten good at being quiet, and the monster hasn't scuttled across the floor in a long time. Maybe it's distracted? He doesn't care. He manages to scoot himself out of his hiding spot, it scrapes and is overall loud. Everything is mossy, and there's water dripping off him from the drawer. He's  _ freezing,  _ teeth clattering together obnoxiously. His stomach rumbles painfully,  _ he's starving.  _ Will doesn't know how long he spent, curled in on himself inside that cramped  _ box,  _ but felt like an eternity. He's so  _ tired.  _ He didn't sleep one bit, the  _ thumps  _ keeping him awake. He's in Hell, he definitely is in Hell. Lucas, Mike, and Dustin aren't here to be obnoxious and rude to him. Mom won't be here to comfort him, more or less. 

 

     He won't get to listen to Jonathan's mixtapes or cool new songs. He smile a little,  _ should I stay or should I g-  _

 

_ Thump.  _

 

     It's coming, he's out in the open. He'll be found. He'll die. He'll  _ die.  _ He's going to  _ die.  _ He’s going to- he’s going to never have a first kiss or a girlfriend. 

 

     Will remembers being in a warm, comfortable home. Monopoly is laid out on the table, Jonathan is winning. Will’s never been good at this game and is almost entirely, flat out broke. His mom is almost caught up, no one really cares though. They're all laughter and grins. After Will loses  _ horribly,  _ Jonathan offers  _ advice.  _

 

_      “Don’t try and buy everything at once, Will. That's how you lose. Take your time, back track if you have to.”  _

 

     The window! Will noisily climbs onto the top of the dresser, things falling. The moss is sticky, it doesn't want to let him go. He tugs the window open with a loud screech and a shutter. He won't  _ die.  _ He'll live. 

 

     When he falls from the window he hits his head, pain blossoming inside his skull, and darkness erupting over his vision. The last thing he hears is  _ thump, thump, thump.  _

 

     Will blacks out, eyes open in the form of tiny slits. His hands are by his face, curled slightly. 

 

     He doesn't want to die. He never wants to die. 

  
  


* * *

 

  
  


     When Will wakes up, he's in his bed. It's warm and comfortable. There's no weird thick tree roots crawling about the house with flakey, dead skin seemingly suspended in time. Just floating there, never stopping. There's no monster that has no face, there's nothing abnormal. 

 

     Jonathan is making lunch, so it's saturday. The sound of the water running and a couple plates being placed down on the small table, cramped with other more useless items. His mom isn't home, probably having taken up another shift. Everything is back to normal- 

 

     Will wakes up, being drug across the leaf covered ground. His house is getting farther and farther away. The gooey webs and suspended skin is still here. Everything is wrong, nothing is normal, he thrashes, kicking.  _ Let go of me! _ He screams, kicking more and more, and then he's running. Sprinting, falling, sprinting, it's back. It's coming for him, he's going to  _ die.  _ He flings the back door open, shutting the screen. This thing is…  _ stronger  _ by all means, and Will is spiraling backwards. He has to be quick though, and he faintly thinks back to his dad's belt. If he ran away fast enough, it never touched him. He never got hurt. 

 

He could live if he ran. 

 

     So he runs, passes by his room, then quickly back tracks, heading into his space and ripping the drawer open.  _ Faster Will, faster. It’s right there Will. Hurry.  _

 

     He scoots himself closed again, the water splashing against his skin, and it's still oh so  _ cold.  _ So  _ dark.  _ He's so  _ alone  _ in this place, surrounded by nothing but wet webs, water, monsters, and pure darkness. 

 

Will is going to die.

  
  


* * *

 

  
     Will can hear his mom, and at first he thinks it's all in his head. The  _ thumps  _ that signal the monster is nearby are gone, just the occasional creak of the floorboards and-  _ Will honey, are you there?  _ It sounds so far away, and like he's only hearing the echo of her voice. He lifts his eye to the little slit in his makeshift hiding spot, water drips of his cheek. It's  _ cold, freezing  _ even. He doesn't see his mom, he can only hear her.

 

_ “Will do that thing again, Will!”  _

 

     He’s desperate to find her, ready to break out of his hiding spot-  _ thump, thump, thump, growl.  _ Will huddles in on himself, hands covering his ears.  _ No, no my mom is right there…  _

 

     But he's seen how this thing behaves. It crawls through random objects and returns with food, and it isn't abnormal to hear the endless screams of an unlucky boy or girl who hasn't quite figured the monster out yet. Will doesn't want to help anyone, the number one thing about hiding is to be  _ quiet.  _ And not to worry about anyone else, because you have to believe they're okay. Because if you move, you tend to make  _ noise,  _ and noise alerts the enemy of your whereabouts, so looking for someone while hiding is dangerous. 

 

     Besides, he can't leave Jonathan all alone like that. He'll get out of wherever this is somehow, he'll go home. He'll go to school and he'll talk about science, his best subject, and then he'll go to Mike’s after for another  _ ten hour  _ session. It'll be fine, everything will be just fine. 

 

     The monster disappears, a gross sound of what sounds like something wet and slimey being ripped open, his  _ mom.  _ He can hear her scream, can hear her run. She's in danger, he has to do something! Will scoots himself out of his hiding spot, water splashing and dresser shaking noisily. He picks up the nearest object, a picture coveted in webby like material, and chucks it as he's running past it. He sprints into the living room, into the cupboard that's easily big enough for him. It's cold, dark, and lonely again. But at least it's not wet. 

 

     Will can hear the thumps of the monster, the thumps or his heartbeat, and the thumps of what sounds like a hammer hitting a nail into a wall. 

  
  
  
  
  
     Will has to be fine, no, he  _ will be  _ fine. He won't die, not when his mother is trying so desperately to find him. She won't give up on him, she's not like his dad. So he trusts her, closing his eyes and covering his ears as the monster gets closer.


	2. Should I live or should I die?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will thinks.

     Will isn't sure when he fell asleep, but he jolts awake as the sound of sobbing is right in his ear. Echoey and thick, like someone who's been crying for far too long and probably shouldn't still be sobbing. Will moves his hands from his ears, still surprised that they stayed firmly pressed into his skull while in the warm abyss known as sleep.

 

     It's not really warm anymore, no it's cold and without his knowledge, his lips are starting to grow purple and his dirtied nails are turning blue. His skin is growing even paler, and it's getting harder to keep his eyes open when exhaustion stings at them. He gets a series of questions, and figures out how to answer. All he has to do is lift his hand and then let it fall back down, he's hungry. Starving even, and it’s becoming increasingly difficult to keep himself from shaking. His teeth don't seem to get the memo, and are noisily chattering.

 

_It'll find me if I don't shut up._

 

     But who would care, really? He's just a _fag,_ a _queer._ A pathetic loser that his father _hates,_ a pathetic loser that he himself _hates._ Why would anyone travel into this world, thick with darkness and a stench far worse than when Dustin uses the bathroom. He's _replaceable,_ if he starves here it's for the better. His family is poor, they hardly make enough money to sustain themselves as it is. He's seen the bills on the table, he's heard Jonathan argue about what can be bought and what can't be. He's already heard the conversation between Jonathan and his mom, Joyce. About how the lights that she's buying are nothing but a waste, and she needs to _stop before you buy us into debt._ Will isn't a necessary factor in anything, their campaigns? Fun with four people, sure, but there's been a couple kids asking to join and sometimes they let them. Five’d be a crowd, so he really isn't needed one bit.

 

     Will can die, and the only one who'd care would be his mom. Jonathan doesn't ever pay attention to him, and when he did it was for his birthday when he was hung up about the lack of a father there to care for him. He's lonely here, and if he somehow gets back, he’ll be lonely there. He's completely alone in this, and he has no one to live for, so why not beg that monster to just bite his head off and finish the deed? It's been after him for a while anyway, and if he can't make his family’s lives easier, why not make a demon’s?

 

     But big boys don't just give up, and he has to prove himself to his dad anyway. He has to prove he isn't some _gay weakling,_ he's not even _gay!_ That's just a stupid insult, Will doesn't care about these stupid labels. He just _loves_ people, he's not gay or straight or whatever! He has to say that to his dad at least, and he also has to thank his mom for all those times she's stood up to the belting Will was about to receive. And he has to thank Jonathan for the radio, because that song is the only thing powering him through right now.

 

     He opens his mouth, weak and tired and:

 

_Darlin’ you gotta let me know,_

_should I stay or should I go?_

_If you say-_

 

     The sound, the _thumping,_ it's back and he slaps a hand over his mouth. It's right there, right outside the cupboard. It growls, shaking the whole establishment. Will wants to cry, wants to scream, wants to fight. But his instincts are flight, it's always been that way. He's never wanted to fight in his life, never wanted to shoot that animal, never wanted to do anything bad. He's always been so sensitive, so afraid of anything, and damn it what's so wrong with that?! Why can't people understand that he doesn't agree with their stupid society, and their stupid _boys don't cry._ Will doesn't care, Will doesn't care, and Will doesn't _care!_

 

     It's definitely stupid, but he can't help but faintly think of his favorite song again. 

 

_Should I live or should I die?_

 

 

     What sounds like a scream distracts his inner monologue, and all Will can do is hold his breath. He has to bite down on his knuckles to keep the chattering of his teeth quiet. He has to try and hide further in his torn winter coat, stained and soiled with mud, random green stains, and water. Speaking of water, it’s still dripping off him, hitting the board underneath his barely alive body.

 

     Will has seen a survival movie or two, and he knows that if he doesn't drink water he’ll get dehydrated, and if he does that he'll be too sick to run. He’ll throw up and it'll be noisy, and if he continues to stray away from the necessary liquid, he will die. He needs food as well, if he doesn't eat his body will start to shut down slowly and he’ll be too weak to continue forth. At least he can sleep, even if it’s been in cramped, awkward positions.

 

     His plan is simple: When the monster leaves, picking off its newest victim, he’ll dash into his room and drink the water stashed inside the drawer. For food, well, this is… just the opposite of his world right? All he has to do is find this world’s animals and eat them, no matter how gross or slimey. He can't let these things deter him. He’ll die.

 

     He has to prove Lonney wrong, he has to prove everybody wrong.

 

     Will Byers is replaceable, but not for long.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kind of short, but at least the paragraphs are lengthy.

**Author's Note:**

> #SaveWill


End file.
